The Doppelganger
by EnEnUnited
Summary: Written after series two and before series three, this is my idea for a possible ending to Ashes to Ashes.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Ashes to Ashes or any of the characters, this is simply my take on their awesome world!**

This was going to be seriously strange. Stranger than anything Alex had ever experienced during her time with Fenchurch East CID, stranger than any of the conversations she had had with Gene Hunt, stranger, even, than meeting her 'past' family members. For Alex Drake was about to meet herself.

This moment had been months in planning, as she and Gene had sat up planning and thinking through the best way of dealing with the situation in hand. Of course, it had meant that she had had to come to terms with the fact that she would be stuck in the 'eighties' for nearly thirty years and would have to cope with retirement and the imminent threat that she would one day forget all about Molly, but it was a way out and that was what she wanted. Wasn't it?

"You sure you're ready for this Bolls?" Gene's all seeing glare fixed her over the top of his ever-present beer glass.

"Thirty years is a pretty long time gov," she replied, " I think I've had just about long enough to mull it over..."

He grinned.

It was strange, in the months following the shooting he had deliberately avoided discussing her little revelation at all costs, preferring instead, in the age old Gene Hunt way to bury feelings deep and continue as if nothing had ever happened. And that was what she had done. And then he had come out with it.

"Listen Bolls," he had said one evening in Luigi's, "I think I might have an idea."

Through her semi-traditional alcohol fuelled haze Alex had, at first, no idea what he was talking about.

"That's nice gov," she's muttered, "but I think the bruise free groin slap might be a somewhat outdated idea..."

"No," he'd slurred, "I think I've found your way out."

She'd stared at him long and hard. And then she'd fallen off her stool. Must stop drinking so much.

The next few days in his office had been full of deep discussions and analysis.

"Makes sense though, doesn't it? You thought you 'ad to save yer parents, but that didn't work," here he'd paused for fear of being insensitive, "what's to say you can't save yerself?"

Alex had been unable to disagree and, though the idea of waiting around for thirty years to return home was hardly compelling, she consoled herself with the thought that something else may come along in the mean time. In any case, she wasn't in any real hurry to leave Mr. Gene Hunt any time soon.

And so, twenty five years had come and gone, Chris and Shaz's kids had been born and grown up and Alex's retirement party had gone with a bang- though Gene had since apologised for drunkenly holding a one-gun salute in the street outside Luigi's, now run by his son.

Fervent meetings and planning sessions had taken place in the trattoria and Alex's by now well inhabited flat. From somewhere she had dug out the original calendars she had made when she first arrived and so the date of her date with destiny was now firmly ingrained on her mind. Everything had made perfect sense as she had watched her younger self make her way through life, timing it perfectly so that her retirement from CID had come just months before her own commencement of work in the department. Regrettably, she had also been forced to ensure that she had stayed firmly out of sight of Evan White, a man whom she had sorely missed over the past three decades, though, of course, it was essential that neither of them recognised her.

Then the day arrived. April 2008. Just like old times, Alex had stuck a fresh calendar to her flat wall, though had, for obvious reasons, refrained from drawing a big red cross upon the fate-full day.

**8:00am**

Her heart thumping, Alex had pulled up in the car with Gene outside 'her' front door, waiting patiently for any sign of her former self. Then she saw her. There, large as life and full of beans was Molly. Alex's heart ached. This was the other sight she had had to be careful to avoid all these years. Sensing her longing, Gene grasped her hand, "You ready?" he asked , softly.

"As I'll ever be," she muttered, and, heart continuing to race, she slowly climbed out of the car,pulling on her by now well worn leather jacket, just for old times' sake.

Mind racing she strolled up to the front door, unable to resist an affectionate smile at her daughter as she passed, Alex prepared the words that she had rehearsed for the past twenty odd years.

"Hello," asked a slightly flustered looking woman from the door way, "can I help you?"

This was it.

"Er, yes, I'm er, well, I'm here from the Unsolved crimes and Open case squad, we've reason to believe that by leaving this property you are at very great risk..."

It was a strange sensation but, for the first time, Alex saw her younger self look a little agitated,

"Right, and do you have any form of ID?"

Alex was stumped. How had she been so stupid?

"Er, well, not on me but..."

Her doppelganger smiled grimly,_ God how annoyingly self-righteous am I?_, thought Alex to herself.

"Right, well in that case, thanks for your concern but I'm sure we'll be fine," young-Alex had replied walking past her to the car.

Sighing Alex continued, "You're not going to pay any attention to what I've just said are you?"

Another sarcastic smile, "I shouldn't think so no," and with that she drove off.

_Shit._

In desperation Alex ran back to the car and climbed in, slamming the door.

"Why didn't you tell me I was such a bitch?" she muttered to Gene.

"As I recall I did once, to my cost," he muttered, rubbing his chin.

Alex smiled grimly, "Oh yeah, sorry about that."

They shared a smile. Then Alex clicked back in to action.

"What do we do now?"

"There's only one thing we can do Bolls," he replied calmly, "let's get to the docks."

Speeding through the London streets, heart pounding, Alex once again regretted the fact that they had failed to find Layton over the past thirty years. _Sneaky bastard,_ she thought,_ why'd he have to make things so complicated?_

As quickly as the morning rush hour traffic would allow the pair of them made their way to the docks where Alex climbed out of the car and ran to the beach. There was no one there.

"I'm too late," she thought to herself. Wheeling around she looked for her car. Nothing. Any second now Arthur Layton would shoot her on the barge and then that would be it. Over.

The barge. It had to be worth a try. Desperation filling her mind she ran as quickly as her ageing limbs would allow her in the general direction of where she remembered the docks to be. There it was. But she had to be quick, time was of the essence. Time was running out.

_It's okay_ she thought, _I'm going to make it_.

And then she heard it.

**BANG!**

She was too late. She'd missed it. Game over. Shoulders slumped, dreading what she was about to see, she walked the final couple of meters down the ramp to the barge.

What she saw made her stomach turn.

There, stretched out on a pile of sacking, was the slumped body of Arthur Layton, bullet wound in the head, and Gene Hunt standing over him, a rather startled looking Alex Drake sitting shaking behind them.

"I think 'e might be dead Bolly," Gene whispered.

With a weak smile, Alex collapsed on the ground.

A strong sound of water filled Alex's ears. Beneath her fingers was the distinct feel of sacking, her suit jacket pulling restrictively across her from when she had fallen. Opening her eyes, she found herself lying dazed in some sort of barge, a smiling Gene Hunt looking back at her.

"Good to see you again Bolly," he grinned, "fancy a drink?"

_**Fin**_

**Hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review and tell me what you think!**

Ellen L. Ireland 15/8/2009


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